


Commitment

by forestgreen



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Other, Vehicular Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestgreen/pseuds/forestgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It felt <i>right</i>, to be here, doing this. Him and his girl. No intruders, no voyeurs, just Jim and the Enterprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commitment

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Viktoria Angelique for her help as a beta.

Jim had to bite down the urge to laugh out loud when he heard the sentence of his final hearing. Captain! He'd been made Captain! The youngest Captain in the history of the Fleet! He wanted to laugh, sing, dance around the courtroom, and do many, many un-captain-y things. Instead, he pressed the tips of his fingers into his outer thighs. Hard. The sharp flash of pain sobered him some. Jim clung to it, embraced it. He was glad he'd managed to convince Bones to let him keep the one bruise. A reminder, Jim had told Bones, and after some hesitation the doctor had let Jim be.

Jim didn't know how he made it out of the courtroom. He felt punch-drunk as he staggered towards his dormitory, shaking hands and smiling whenever people came to congratulate him.

The emptiness in the usually busy dorms stopped him in his tracks. It seemed impossible, but for a moment he'd forgotten the price of his promotion. All the other captains were dead. His friends, his comrades, many of his multiple casual lovers, people he'd shared his life and his dreams with. All were gone. The Admirals had picked him not because he was the best, but because there was no one left.

Jim fled the dorms, unable to face their deafening silence.

Instead he ran, one foot in front of the other, faster, faster, until his lungs burned and blood pounded in his ears, filling that silence. He came to a halt, puffing and huffing, drenched in sweat, his uniform clinging to his back and shoulders, wet and uncomfortable. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, letting his legs bear most of his weight, while he waited for his breathing to calm down.

The crisp San Francisco breeze carried with it the smell of the ocean. In front of him, the Enterprise rose majestic in her metallic beauty. A siren song calling to Jim, beguiling and dangerous—a promise of adventures to come. _His_.

Jim wasn't surprised his feet had brought him here. He'd been running all his life—or so it felt—and every step had led him here, to this place, this moment—to the Enterprise. He'd just been too slow figuring it out.

His knees were unsteady as he traipsed towards the ship. The cadets guarding the docks saluted him, snapping to attention with zeal bordering on worship. They looked awfully young and so wet behind the ears that it was hard for Jim to remember that barely three years ago he'd been just like them (sans the respectful attitude, he'd never quite managed to make that one work).

He nodded at them, not quite daring to add, "At ease." It seemed pretentious somehow. The Enterprise responded to his identification code and opened for him.

Jim walked through her empty corridors. His hands trailed over the cold metal walls, enjoying the hard smoothness beneath his fingers. He didn't feel alone here. The Enterprise was too alive—too much a part of Jim already. He closed his eyes and imagine how it'd be. He'd find her the brightest minds in the galaxy—only the best for his girl. They'd cruise through the dark infinity of space, flying among the stars, exploring new worlds.

Jim smiled—proprietary, proud, cocky. The Admirals might have chosen him because there wasn't anyone left, but he'd prove to them that he'd have been the best choice regardless.

He'd carve the Enterprise's name into history.

His girl recognized Jim's bio-signature. The doors of the command room slid open for him. An invitation. The artificial light shone on the captain chair. Jim stepped closer as if in a trance. He circled the chair slowly, taking in the smooth, efficient design. The best technology the Fleet had to offer.

He sat down, relishing the way the nano-particles immediately adjusted to his weight and shape, supporting his back just right. A shiver of pleasure ran through him. _His chair_.

He'd bragged to everyone who wanted to hear it (and to some who didn't) that he'd made captain in record time, but a part of him still didn't believe that he'd truly made it. He kept expecting to wake up any moment only to realize it had all been a dream.

The chair felt real enough. Jim caressed the controls embedded in the metal. He could imagine how they'd light up under the pressure of his fingers, the Enterprise responding to him like an old lover. He closed his eyes and leaned back, spreading his legs wide, until his thighs brushed against the armrests. He shifted in the chair, pretending it was the Enterprise rocking him, even though he knew that in a real flight inertial dampers would stop his body from feeling the vibrations. With his eyes closed it was easy to believe that the blackness surrounding Jim was the emptiness of deep space.

Jim sighed, tension flushing out of him. His muscles relaxed into the boneless sprawl he only felt after a particularly brutal fight or a really good, hard fucking—the two things that had put a bit of color into the grey blur of Jim's life up to now.

His right thigh flared with pain, the bruise catching against the chair. Jim moaned aloud. He'd forgotten about it. He rocked his hips, opening his legs wider, wanting to feel that flash of pain again. There. Just there. He did it again and gasped, cock stirring.

Without a conscious thought, Jim's right hand trailed down his body and skimmed beneath Jim's trousers, freeing his cock. His blood already sang with desire and anticipation, the brush of Jim's fingers awakening thousands of memories of other times, other places, where the only comfort Jim had been able to find was his own hand.

This was better.

It felt _right_ , to be here, doing this. Him and his girl. No intruders, no voyeurs, just Jim and the Enterprise. He didn't want others to witness this moment, least of all participate.

He palmed his cock, working himself with the practice of years. The chafing, dry strokes of his hand only highlighted the sensations, the discomfort a sharp contrast to the pleasure. The bruise on his thigh throbbed, the pain feeding Jim's arousal. He rocked back and forth, making sure that the cant of the chair dug against the injury with every movement of his hips. It was as though the Enterprise herself were hurting him, making Jim _feel it_.

It was fucking perfect.

He brushed over the dry slit of his cock with the pad of his thumb, feather-light at first and then harder, coaxing the precome out. Jim's other hand clutched the arm of the chair, his fingernails digging into the metal surface. He could pretend that the Enterprise was there, with him, holding his hand, his body, swallowing Jim, owning him in the same thorough, absolute way he intended to own her.

She'd whisper in his ears about adventures to come, her no-nonsense voice clean and artificial. She'd learn every part of Jim like no one had before: his dreams, his hopes, his fears. She'd know him and she'd love him anyway. Jim knew he was too broken, too used, too _other_ , but his girl wouldn't mind. He knew it like he knew his own name.

He pressed his feet harder against the floor and lifted his hips until his muscles burned with exertion. Waves of pleasure crashed against Jim, making him dizzy with need. His hand trailed lower, caressing his sensitive balls. Jim moaned, hips jerking uncoordinatedly. He was almost there. His balls drew tighter, contracting in anticipation. His left hand gripped the edge of the chair with white-knuckled intensity, feeling the Enterprise there, with him.

"Till death do us part, girl," Jim gasped, giving his cock a brutal twist.

"Yes," he imagined the metallic voice answering, and Jim came with a scream, undone with the intensity of it, hips flaying, come spurting everywhere, white streaks of it spraying the clean metal of the chair, marking the Enterprise as his.

He waited for his breathing to calm down, eyes still closed, reluctant to destroy the illusion. "I hope it was good for you, too," he breathed out, voice still rough from the orgasm. Jim laughed at his own joke. Then, he said, "I promise you, love, you and I are going to have the best time together."

He imagined the Enterprise's answer. She'd dim the light of her monitors in come-hither way, space opening wide and infinite beneath her. She'd see into Jim's soul. "Bring it on, Jimmy-boy," she'd say. "Show me how good you are."

And he would show her. Show the world.

He was going to be the best fucking captain Starfleet had ever had. He and the Enterprise, they would write history together.


End file.
